


Art Gallery Smile

by Offendedfish



Series: DC Reader Inserts by an Offended Fish [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Banter, Batfamily (DCU), Batkids attempt to wingman, Cassandra is the only one Tim can trust, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Good Bro Dick Grayson, Good Bro Jason Todd, Good Sibling Cassandra Cain, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, I clearly have never taken a photography class, I will apologize for this someday, M/M, Other, Tim is experiencing puppy love, Wingman squad, cursing, suspension of disbelief is required
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26089720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Offendedfish/pseuds/Offendedfish
Summary: “Why don’t we just use pictures of Gotham’s finest?”“The GCPD? Dubois is a-”“I meant the caped crusader. The flying rodent society. Red Hood. Black Bat. RED FREAKING ROBIN.” Tim reels from the mention of his alter ego. He feels like he’s been thrown for a loop. The enthusiasm in your voice as you carefully enunciate his hero name crawls up his spine and stops the litany of well-constructed rebuttals he had lined up.My excuse to write Tim as lovesick as possible, throw in vigilante hijinks, and throw in batsibling fluff.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne & Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake/ Coffee, Tim Drake/Original Character(s), Tim Drake/Reader
Series: DC Reader Inserts by an Offended Fish [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885726
Comments: 9
Kudos: 115





	Art Gallery Smile

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic was basically just me wanting to write Tim being in love and then I got the really dumb idea to throw in photography and the batsiblings being little shits. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I have never done a photography class so please have mercy on me. I only own the OC reader is based on and the plot. The OC I based this on was male but I tried to keep readers as gender-neutral as possible. 
> 
> Warning: Excess use of the word 'chirp'.

“Capture Gotham’s Spirit….” Tim read again -for what was possibly the 4th time since he’d opened the page- with mounting frustration. Because that was it. That’s the description. No other parameters or specifications. 

Nothing.

Nada.

Zip. 

Tim felt a vein pop. He rubbed his tired eyes, pressing the heels of his palms in just a bit to try and chase away the exhaustion from the previous night's patrol. He woke up this morning thinking it was ok to skip his morning class since you were there but now he’s not too sure. 

“Did Dubois say anything else in class?” He asked you, holding out his hand for his drink as you sat down beside him. The drink was unusually cold and when he looked at the drink in his hand, he was greeted by the sight of radioactively pink liquid. It wasn’t coffee. It wasn’t even caffeinated. It was an offensively pink decidedly non-caffeinated smoothie with ‘Tom’ scribbled haphazardly on the side. Tim groaned and scowled at you, who had the audacity to hum innocently into your own very much caffeinated drink trying your damnedest not to smile. But the crow’s feet wrinkling at the edge of your eyes were practically winking at him. Some warm, fuzzy thin bloomed in Tim’s chest which  _ nearly _ made him smile at your antics. 

“Really?”

“Mhmm”

“WE’RE NOT EVEN IN YOUR APARTMENT”

“A) You, for some  _ ungodly _ reason, trusted me with your money. B) If I have to suffer through Dubois 30 minute simping session over some dead old guy, you can survive an hour without paint peeling coffee. C) Dick told me you've been, practically, running on the stuff since last week!""

_ Traitor.  _

He wasn’t wrong Tim had been sustaining himself on coffee and possibly spite but so was everyone else. 

You leaned back in your chair shrugging, head cocked to the side, eyes shining, and your trademark ‘I dare you’ smirk plastered across your face. “You can have coffee if we do a project at your place,”

_ And risk your meeting more of my family? NO! Out of the question.  _

You meeting Dick was bad enough. Tim wasn’t even sure how you had managed to run into Dick that day but Tim regretted it constantly. Dick, fortunately, had enough decency to keep it from the rest of the family but, apparently, not enough to stop pestering him about it. “You’ve got it bad, Tim,” Dick had said with an obnoxious air of big brother confidence. 

“The answer to your previous question is no. She had, in fact, neglected to elaborate further on the project due to the aforementioned simping. You should have seen Rachel. She looked like she was about to bite Dubois’ head off. ” You laughed, the soft glow of the afternoon sun catching in your lashes making your (e/c) shine gold. Tim had to stop staring. He really needed to. Maybe. 

Your mouth twitched from side to side, 4 times to the left, 4 and a half times to the right as you were deep in thought. He learned it was a habit you’d picked up after being subjected to countless reruns of ‘Bewitched’ and that it was also the easiest way to tell that you were lost in thought. Tim sighed, sliding the laptop away from him. He swirled the horrendously pink shake in his hands, took a sip, and sagged into his chair. Blessedly, it wasn’t nearly as sweet as the color suggested but his body still ached for caffeine. 

“So, I was thinking-”

“That’s new.”

“Shut up!” You laugh in your usual musical way. It made his breath catch and the boldness from his previous quip flitted away in an instant. 

“We could go urban exploring or...”

“Oh no.”

“What do you mean ‘oh no’? Let me finish, jackass. I have said zilch to warrant your Drake Brand Skepticism.” Wayne Brand Skepticism would have been more on the money but he’s not about to say that. 

“Yeah but you have that look”

“What look?”

_ The shape of your face when you’re about to open all the cages in the zoo.  _ Tim’s spent far too much time studying your face.

“The look you have when you’re about to spite someone.” 

Your eyes wide and mouth begins to twitch again. Tim can’t help the smile that spreads on his face. You cover your mouth. It was hard to tell because of the sun shining in your face but Tim thinks he sees color rise on your cheeks. It really shouldn’t be this gratifying and Tim has to wrangle his facial features so they don’t betray whatever flush emotion has made his head muddy. 

Tim rolls his eyes playfully.“Let’s hear it. What’s your brilliant idea?”

You huff at his skepticism. “Why don’t we just use pictures of Gotham’s finest?”

“The GCPD? Dubois is a-”

“No!” You bite out all the shyness from before disappearing. Your face isn’t quite as angry as your tone suggested, in fact, your lips were pulled down pensively and your arms crossed while cocking your head to the side. 

“I meant the caped crusader. The flying rodent society. Red Hood. Black Bat. RED FREAKING ROBIN.” Tim reels from the mention of his alter ego. He feels like he’s been thrown for a loop. The enthusiasm in your voice as you carefully enunciate his hero name crawls up his spine and stops the litany of well-constructed rebuttals he had lined up. 

_ RED FREAKING ROBIN _

“Do you really think Dubios would let us use vigilantes?” He managed to sputter out but he knew he needed to. It was a very valid point. “She’d probably prefer if we just took pictures of architecture or something,”

“She would also prefer if I was buried six feet under but here I am sitting in a cafe, drinking coffee bought using a gullible rich kid’s credit card,” You tease smugly. He really should hate you.

“There’s a reason she wants you 6 feet-”

“Come on, Tim! I already have their routes sorted out,”

Tim choked. The radioactive pink liquid invading his nostrils and lungs.

“What? How?! Whose?”

You rolled your eyes and preen, ridiculously pleased with yourself. “You’re not the only detective here, Duckie,” You boast taking out a Dollar Store Gotham City map littered with sticky notes, different colored lines, and your familiar, harsh 2 AM EKG scrawl. Tim traced the lines with his fingers marveling at the amount of research you’d done given you didn’ have the luxury of a bat-computer at your disposal. The notes were detailed if slightly unreadable. All of the routes were incomplete but alarmingly accurate except for one. 

“Whose is this one?” he asked, pointing to the complete, stark red line streaking across the map. It looked familiar but his brain had other problems. Color rose in your cheeks again. This time even the blaring light of the sun couldn’t hide it. 

“It’s the red dude’s” you stammer out dumbly. 

“There are two ‘red dudes’. Three if you’re using it as a gender-neutral term,” Tim says leaning forward. 

You blow out a breath.“It’s Red Robin’s, space nuts. Everyone and their grandmas know the Bowery is Hood’s territory.”

“Why?” Tim presses feeling a surge of confidence as a bundle of excitement and anxiety rattles around in his head. You regard this change in demeanor for a moment before sheepishly handing him your phones. On the home screen was a stylized silhouette of Red Robin holding his bow staff in a fighting stance on a plain red background (matching the color of his outfit perfectly) with his symbol superimposed on the silhouette. Based on the hard strokes that not even digitization can hide, it was  _ your _ handiwork.

“I’m a huge Red Robin fan.”

“Really?!”

“He’s hands down the coolest. I will take no criticism.” You chirp enthusiastically.

“Really?” He knew he sounded dumb but what else was he supposed to say. 

“Well, if he isn’t I wasted $80 on a hoodie,”

“You have one? I’ve never seen you wear it.”

“It’s 80 freaking dollars, Tim. I keep it safe for conventions.” 

Tim felt flush and dizzy and wonderful. It felt like the world was bouncing around. His mind was going a million miles an hour and he really wished he could pump the breaks. 

_ Does (y/n) have a crush on my alter ego? No. Ridiculous. But they’re also really blushing. Their eyes are dilated. Their shoulders are hunched. AND. They're trying to look away- _

“TIM”

“Wha-” Your face was a breath away from his.

“Personal space!” He squeaked, jumping back earning a laugh from you. He felt the tips of his ears grow red. 

“Huh, Steph was right-” you mumbled, amazed, and leaning back into your seat. Tim swore Dick and Steph were conspiring against him. “Anyway! You gotta help me do this Tim. Please!” you whined as sweetly as you could.

How could Tim say no?

Not when your enthusiasm still crackled in the air. 

Steph was right. He was stupidly, hopelessly, disgustingly lovesick. They’re all going to give him so much shit. 

\------------------

_ RED FREAKING ROBIN _

This was a dumb idea. This might be his crowning achievement of dumb ideas. 

_ Well, it’s the best one you’ve got.  _

Cass won’t give him too much shit about it. Probably. 

“Hey Cass, Can- Can I talk to you? Alone.” 

Jason and Cass look up from the book they were reading. Cass gave him a concerned look (probably because he looked like he wanted to die) while Jason gave him a skeptical one (because he’s Jason). 

“What’s up Timbo? Was it Condiment King?”

“No! Don’t worry about it.”

“It was Two-Face, wasn’t it?” Dick teased playing along as he apperated from out from God knows where. 

“No,”

“Lemme guess, it was the Riddler.”

“No...”

“Tt, imbeciles, Drake clearly had some trouble with Penguin.”

“What? NO!” What cursed deity made sure they were all home right now? Why didn’t Tim check?

“What’s wrong? You can tell us.” Dick assures laying the big brother tone thick as he placed a gentle hand on Tim’s shoulder. It would definitely be reassuring if not for the knowing smile twitching in the corner of Dick’s lips. Tim sighed and slumped. Suddenly tired. 

“Fine. It’s (y/n).”

“Who?”

“Jason, It’s (y/n) (l/n). Y’know the college kid you tailed last weak. The pizza delivery kid.” Dick explains showing Jason a picture from his phone. 

“Why would you tail them?”

“I owed Bruce a favor,”

“Dick, why would you tell Bruce?”

“I didn’t. Bruce researched him after he saw the two of you together. You know how he is,”

Tim wishes he could disappear. 

“Anyway what about y/n?”

Does he really wanna answer this question? No. Especially not with Damian and Jason around. But he knows that if he doesn’t he won’t get what he want. 

_ Breathe _

_ Breathe _

“They’re my partner from photography. They- They want totakepicturesofRedRobinandIcouldn'tsaynobecausehelookedsohappyandadorableandfuck!IreallyneedCasstopretendtobemefortonight.”

“So you want Cass to wingman for you?” Jason jokes looking like he’s about to keel over. 

“NO” It would be lovely if the earth could swallow him now. 

Jason glances at your photo again and whistles. “Dunno man, they’re pretty out of your league.”

He knows.

“Thank God, you have us then.”

Damian rolls his eyes, Cass gives him a reassuring smile, while Dick hums excitedly. 

_ \------------------------- _

To say the fire escape was cramped is an insulting understatement. Especially when you two were snuggled under a thick blanket. Tim doesn’t mind too terribly though. Not when you’re leaning against him, telling odd little stories, and offering him coffee. 

“How did you convince them to let us camp here?”

“They owed me.”

“For what?”

“What are you? A cop?”

“No. Ok, but how do you know that they’ll show up?”

“Roz predicted they would with her tarot cards and that other hocus pocus,” You laughed rolling your eyes. 

“You put out fake info, didn’t you?”

Your nose scrunched up and your mouth twitched again. You kind of reminded him of a rabbit. 

“That would have been a lot fucking safer. But, no. I did the dumb thing and actually tracked a pretty big drug deal here.” That was impressive but usually, only one or two bats would have shown up for this kind of deal. Luckily for you, his siblings, after hours of ribbing, agreed to all make an appearance. 

They all show up as promised. Swooping down, Dick and Jason were embarrassingly theatrical while Cass and Damian did their level best to act natural. Tim tried not to die from second-hand embarrassment. The fight was short due to their numbers but that didn’t seem to matter. You looked absolutely enthralled as you took pictures and crooned over how cool they looked with every hit. Cass did a fabulous job of making Tim look like a badass. When the fighting was over, Tim prayed that Dick wasn’t tempted to swing over and make small talk. Cass got that covered though. 

\------------

“THAT WAS SO COOL” You chirp looking so stupidly happy that Tim wanted to take a picture and frame it. Hell, he would make copies and display it in the world’s finest art galleries. It was your usual cocky lopsided grin but with the edge of challenge smoothed out and refitted with abject delight. Tim was pretty sure you were glowing. 

“It was too bad Black Bat wasn’t there but HOLY HELL RED ROBIN WAS AMAZING ” You crooned all the way toward you, debatably functional, motorcycle. 

“God Tim! I’m so happy I could kiss you-”

_ Please _

“Oh- I-” Tim could see the red as it traveled from your neck to the tips of your ears. “I should probably get you home before Alfred kills me.” You say jamming your helmet on. “Oh and Tim, thanks for coming. You made this so much better.” He doesn’t have any clue how he made it better but he is pretty fucking sure he can die happy now. 

\---------------

By the time, you drop him off. He was dazed. An obnoxious fluffy feeling over road his senses. 

“So, Tim, how’d it go?”

“Amazing,” Tim sighs, pulling them all into a hug with almost Kryptonian strength. He’s pretty sure Jason complained and Damian made an inhuman hissing noise. He thinks Cass and Dick hug him back but he isn’t quite sure. No, his head was too full of your smile. All that he’s sure of is that he is stupidly, hopelessly, disgustingly happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!
> 
> Working title was Picture Perfect but I decided against it. 
> 
> If anyone is wondering about the expression/ twitching reader does, here is a youtube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t02Up-gA7BA


End file.
